


In the Beginning

by Cherrypie55



Series: Vault Era one shots [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, The Vault (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23680999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherrypie55/pseuds/Cherrypie55
Summary: Missy didn't settle easily into life in the vault.Another one shot in my Vault Era series.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Missy
Series: Vault Era one shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702705
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	In the Beginning

  
During her early years in the vault Missy had been angry. At herself, at the Doctor, at the universe. She lashed out when they brought her food. Hissed and growled like a feral animal at any attempt at communication. The containment field was set up almost immediately. 

  
As the months went by she settled into a quiet seething anger, sitting within the containment field running her hands as close as she could to the blue light, close enough to smell her own singed flesh. It was only humpty dumpty that cared for her during this time, the Doctor was busy he said, and the egg certainly didn’t care if she did herself any harm.

  
The Doctor eventually started to check on her again, with a story about taking a teacher position at a university. She didn’t care. She was still angry. She was especially angry at that tiny part inside that clenched in disappointment when it wasn’t the Doctor outside the vault. 

  
After the first year passed Missy's anger began to fade away into an overwhelming numbness. She no longer bothered with her elaborate Victorian dress or perfectly done hair and makeup. She wore the plain cotton nightgown the Doctor had provided when he'd set up her bed in the beginning. Hair still pinned up but frizzy and matted, her elegant style beyond recognition. 

  
She laid in bed most of the time trying to remember how to feel anything. She was so tired, so very tired. Her anger had burned inside her like a fire and without it, it was like she was nothing. 

  
Missy had no idea how much time had passed when the Doctor came to her bed. He stood awkwardly hovering beside her before sitting down. 

  
“Missy you haven't eaten in a long time,” he began “I really think you need to take better care of yourself. We're stuck here together for a long time yet.”

  
“You're the one supposed to be watching over me.” Her voice cracking from lack of use. 

  
“Yes and I’m not going to watch you fade to nothing over the next thousand years.” He snapped back.

  
“Do something about it then.” She challenged, emotions stirring inside her for the first time in a long while.

  
“Fine!” he spat and grabbed for her wrist.

  
Missy gasped as he grabbed her. Her reflexes slow from spending weeks.. months? in bed. She pulled away from him but she was weak from lack of food and he easily began pulling her towards him.

  
“Just come with me and eat something.” The Doctor reasoned as he tried to pull her from her bed.

  
She resisted with all her strength. The force of it jarred her already fragile wrist, this time she shrieked in pain.

  
“Stop it! Just stop it!” she cried as he let go as if burnt, a look of horror spreading across his face.

  
“Missy..” The Doctor began.

  
She wouldn't listen. She scrambled up the bed towards the headboard clutching at her wrist, protecting herself like a wounded animal, eyes darting around the room. For the first time since being put in the vault Missy was scared. 

  
“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you, let me see it.” The Doctor said frantically as he crawled onto the bed in front of her.

  
Missy began to panic as he advanced on her, with no way to defend herself she curled further and further into a ball still cradling her injured wrist. She could hear him saying her name over and over.

  
“Missy please look at me. I won't hurt you please!” he begged.

  
When he reached out and touched her shoulder she screamed, her body running on pure instinct after being neglected for so long. She lashed out scratching with her once perfectly manicured nails. He held her by both shoulders as she struggled against him.

  
“Calm down! Please you'll hurt herself, I need you to stop! Missy look at me, I'm right here, look at me!” the Doctor moved his hands to her face forcing her to look at him.

  
The moment his forehead pressed against hers she stopped fighting. He had a hand either side of her face, firm at first but gentle once she stopped fighting. Missy's eyes locked onto the Doctor's, icy blue meeting stormy grey, she saw unshed tears as he whispered apologies over and over, asking for forgiveness. She had the urge to kiss him then, like they had way back when Clara was still around, to comfort him, to show him she was okay. But she wasn't. Tears began to fall and before she knew it she collapsed against the Doctor, clinging to his chest as sobs wracked through her tired body. His arms wrapped around her, his never ending whispers of apology in her ear.

  
They stayed there until her body was stiff and her face sticky from dried tears and snot, the Doctor's shirt damp against her as he cradled her to him. At some point he had stopped talking Missy realised but he hadn't let her go. She shifted a little and he released her, moving back to give her space. 

  
“Can I please see your arm now?” he asked her quietly.

  
In response Missy held out her throbbing wrist, its constant dull pain helped ground her. It was nice to feel something after being numb for so long.

  
“It's not broken.” The Doctor said gently checking it over, he then held his hand out over it, a familiar orange glow beginning to form.

  
“Don't!” Missy snapped, pulling her arm back towards herself.

  
The glow of regeneration energy faded instantly and the Doctor pulled his hand back. It wasn't that she didn't want him using his energy on her, it was that she didn't want the pain to go away. 

  
“Can't you just bandage it or something?” She asked almost in a whisper.

  
“Okay. If that's what you want.” He conceded “Missy.. you do know it was an accident? I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you please believe that.”

  
She nodded. 

  
“I'll just get some medical supplies and be right back okay?” 

  
_He's being so nice to me_ Missy thought _he hasn’t spent this much time with me the whole time I've been stuck in here. Maybe if he thinks he has to look after me he'll stay more._ She got to her feet and made her way to one of the chairs where she used to eat to wait for the Doctor to return. Missy focused on the steady pain from her wrist to drown out the little part of her deep inside that was telling her she was pathetic for wanting him around, wanting his company and attention after all he had done by trapping her here, keeping her prisoner.

  
The Doctor returned quickly, not bothering to ask Missy to get in the containment field. He immediately walked over to where she was sat and knelt down in front of her. She held out her arm for him and he began to tend her injury. All too soon it was over and her wrist was bandaged. The gentle touches and attention gone. Her hearts ached a little at the loss.

  
“Will you eat something now?” the Doctor asked her.

  
“Will you eat with me?” She countered, a trace of her old self shining through.

  
“Okay.” He agreed.

  
Missy smiled at this small victory, pleased she had got him to stay a little longer. As they sat together and ate Missy realised that underneath all of the anger she felt towards the Doctor for keeping her locked away, the fact remained that she still wanted her friend back. So she couldn't use an army to get his attention anymore, she would just have to come up with different ways. She would do anything it takes, even being ‘good’. 


End file.
